Support Grinding: A Rank
by Def Liepard
Summary: To better understand his companions, Robin endeavors to get to know every last one of them as intimately as possible. Het and yaoi inside, pairings are Robin/everybody.
1. Chapter 1

I got an anonymous request on tumblr to write a Robin/everybody fic, and since that big an orgy was totally unfeasible with a single-person focus, I decided instead to write this, which is a collection of one-paragraph bits detailing Robin's exploits with every member of camp. It's also kind of an experiment in trying to better handle short-form writing, and hopefully my attempt won't bore you. This chapter covers the space up to the time skip after chapter 11, next chapter will be the rest of the cast, including everyones' kids. Not sure if I'm going to also do the Spot Pass characters or not.

...

There was a pull from the second Chrom found Robin, an innate certainly, that he would be at his best if he knew every soldier in the Shepherds, could call them friends and knew them well enough to craft strategies that suited every part added up to the sum that was their militia. Friendship seemed the logical avenue, but somehow it felt insufficient, like there was a core aspect of the matter missing. He found it by happenstance, an offhand remark he heard on the street one afternoon, leaving the idea brewing in his mind to seek their kinship in physical forms as well, to understand them as deeply as he could.

Lissa was his first, as he found himself in her bed shortly after joining, and by total accident. He believed her to be his first, period; it certainly felt awkward enough with her for it to be likely. He was delicate with the princess, knowing her older brother and his protective lieutenant still slept in the next tent over, knew they would break him in half if they found him lying in her bed, blankets pulled up over her shoulders from behind as she rocked gently in his lap. She fumbled just as much as he did, both awkward virgins unsure what they were doing but eager to explore each others' bodies, to experience something invigorating and new. Their fingers remained entwined, save for when they spread out to feel across the soft skin, to brush some hair, or to seize a part of the other. It gave Robin life, gave him for the first time in his short-remembered life a feeling that was unambiguously joyful.

A few nights later he found himself in Chrom's bed under similar circumstances, though with stronger hands on his sides and a heavier weight pressing down on him. Chrom seemed narrowly more experienced than his sister, evidenced by how his tongue worked his shaft with such grace and the purpose with which his hands moved. His natural ability to lead led him to guiding his newest Shepherd through everything piece by piece, teaching the amnesiac how to go down on him, how to kiss, how to twist and press against the body of the person whose lips refuse to leave his neck. The tactician didn't think he stood to learn anything, but by the end of the night he lay on the bed, Chrom moving inside of him and shuddering into his ear, and he'd been humbled.

An endurance training session gone wrong sent Robin into Frederick's arms, and what they did, they did in the orange light of dusk on a bed of grass. The knight was more virginal than even Lissa had been, suddenly losing his confidence and leaving the rather inexperienced tactician to lead. Nervously, Robin walked through everything he remembered with Chrom, though he lacked the patience to teach and Frederick lacked the emotional investment to learn. It was evidence Frederick had grown to trust him though, and he had no intent to betray what he'd been given. He straddled the knight, grasping their cocks together with one hand and stroking them unison, pressing a hand into one of the several pieces of armour Frederick hadn't bothered to strip off. His lips sought some skin receptive to his touch, but he couldn't find one come the end of it, and it seemed after cleaning themselves up that it would be something never spoken of again.

Sully made it all into a contest. She wasn't going to have any of that gentle, moonlit crap. She grabbed at and played rough with him, not caring if he wasn't built like she was or meant to be on the front lines. She was glad to overpower him, to send his head right down between her legs, which wrapped around his neck and held him there tighter than she gripped her sword on the battlefield. Her hips rocked, eagerly fucking his face as she made all the noise she wanted, complimenting his tongue at every turn. She was brash, sure, but not rude or ungrateful. One she'd gotten off a couple times from his mouth, she pushed him down onto the cold ground and rode him just as hard. It let him know exactly who was in control, and he didn't seem to mind in the least. Once they were done, she gave him a quick kiss, cuddled him far too hard for his comfort, and told him they'd be doing that again some time.

When Virion stumbled drunk into his room, it seemed like the last thing that was going to happen would be sex. Virion was supposed to be the suave lady's man, and yet there he was, kissing Robin's neck like a beautiful lady and tugging at the big, heavy coat wrapped around him. Virion slurred something into his ear about how if he squinted, Robin looked rather slim and feminine, and that if Virion could do all the penetrating he'd make Robin feel like the luckiest woman in the world. It seemed ludicrous, but the hard length pressing through the archer's pantaloons against his thigh made his head race with excitement. Virion made gentle love to him, and after a night of being manhandled by Sully, he rather enjoyed the chance to give Virion a slow, patient blowjob, Licking all over, gently stroking and sucking, before being pressed down against the bed and taken from behind, lips on the back of his neck. After vanishing come the dawn, Virion had difficulty looking Robin in the eye again for a little while.

Stahl had some limits he wanted addressed, and his fling with Robin was mostly an experimental one. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt, and though he felt most attracted to Robin of the men in camp and wanted him to be who he tried to find himself through, he was slow. Robin kept patient, careful, and changed things only when the brunette was ready. Kissing came first, a long make-out session sitting beneath a tree, followed by them stroking themselves, before the curious cavalier wanted to try stroking each other. The slow build fascinated Robin, providing a new angle of approach he hadn't really seen before, going an entire afternoon of slow caresses before his lips finally wrapped around Stahl's penis. By the end of their fling, as Stahl wiped his mouth after bringing his head up from the tactician's lap, he still wasn't sure about it all, but knew that he'd direct all of his curiosity to Robin.

After his attempts to spy on a bathing Sully were foiled yet again, The Vaike decided that if Robin was so intent on keeping him from getting his rocks off from the bushes, he was going to contribute. Robin could do absolutely nothing as he was pressed against a wall, hard, pinned by the fighter as clothes fell down to the floor amidst snarls and bravado. Soon, an aching shaft pressed up in the crook of his ass, rocking teasingly, letting him know just how much he was about to experience, and Robin shuddered at the realization of just how much there was to experience. All of it ended up inside of him, pounding relentlessly into him as The Vaike found relief through what turned out to not be too bad an avenue. Fucking Robin into a wall actually did him far more good than maybe jerking off to a bathing woman would have, so he left the shuddering, tired tactician slumped against the wall with cum leaking from his ass, "threatening" to do it again next time he felt like interrupting him.

Miriel's eagerness to experiment was more than a little overwhelming. She set aside an entire day for them, and the moment she handed him a steaming teacup promising to be an aphrodisiac, he knew she was going to be difficult. She talked the whole time, even through shuddered breaths and moans as his fingers deftly worked her over, and while she wrapped her ample breasts around his cock and told him to thrust. Every angle had to be examined, every position had to be tried, and she was determined to take mental notes all the while, dictating them to herself out loud as a way of committing them to memory. Had they not sweetly contorted with her voice as he pleasured her, the verbose and scientific manner in which she spoke would have turned him off. Instead, she moaned through it all, never shutting up, giving his ears a sweet chorus to enjoy as he took her again and again, until the tea leaves ran out and she seemed satisfied with the sample size they'd gathered.

A day slipped by, the clumsy Pegasus knight slumped lazily against Robin as they both read, slowly working through the piles of books they had, thinking it a nice and easy way to enjoy a day off. Books were nice, but her head in his lap as they read, his fingers occasionally in her hair and stroking, made it all the nicer. When the last candle burned out and they had no light left to read by, they found themselves on her bed, making gentle love, so caught up in each other they forgot all about the mound of books unfinished. It was a regular habit with them, and Robin knew exactly how to touch her. He was gentle, because she wasn't too sturdy, and she needed affection more than she needed a ravishing. Kisses everywhere, his hands stroking her every nook and cranny as his hips ground against hers with careful purpose. He wanted her to know she was special, know that she mattered and that it was she that he liked, not whatever role she felt like slipping into. After they were done, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and enjoyed her warmth a few last sleepy moments for the day.

Robin had been on his bed, door locked, pleasuring himself for a long time, when a hand clasped his thigh. He panicked, and noticed Kellam in the room, insisting he'd been there the whole time and that he was enjoying the show too much to only use his eyes any longer. Robin wasn't sure what he was talking about, but felt too embarrassed to say anything, simply nodding and giving the knight permission to go forward. The strong hands seemed oddly gentle, giving him careful attention that seemed perfectly in line with the lazy evening masturbation he'd been indulging in. He closed his eyes and let Kellam do with him whatever he wanted, until after finding release he noticed the knight was simply gone.

Donnel was so eager to learn that he came off as a little overbearing to Robin. It took some time to calm him down, to get a pace going that both could agree on. He'd learned a lot since his last encounter with someone clumsily inexperienced, and this time could handle himself confidently. They set off one afternoon under the guise of going fishing, and Robin taught the teen everything he knew. Donnel was a quick study, which seemed to be a talent of his, and took easily to sucking the tactician off, earning his load with a swiftness that legitimately shocked both of them. Then, he sank his lance into the sand, leaned against it, and was taken. By the end of it, both lay on the beach sticky, and feeling like they'd accomplished something worthwhile.

Predictably, Lon'Qu's stoic attitude held true in the bedroom. It was strange; he was a very passionate lover, emoting thoroughly with his hands as they gripped Robin's thighs, with his lips as they trailed along his jaw, even with his leg as it wrapped around his. It was a level of physicality he wasn't used to in such a gentle capacity, but he remained entirely silent throughout. No moans as Robin's head slipped from tip to base with impressive speed, no grunts as he buried himself into the bent-over tactician, no appreciative words or even ragged breaths as their cocks rubbed together between a single clenched hand and their tongues met furiously. It was so confusing that Robin gave up on trying to figure it out, simply throwing himself into the situation. At the end of the night, one final release inside of him earned a low grunt into his ear.

Ricken was stubbornly out to prove himself. Robin had to admit, it amused him to watch the mage stroke his cock with both hands, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes all the while in a proud attempt to make him squirm. He was determined to get a reaction, for the tactician to, at a moment's notice, throw his head back and moan as he came messily, getting his own lap sticky with cum. It didn't happen, and Robin found himself enjoying the mage's eagerness far more than he ought to have. Only when the frustrated caster threw his hands up in frustration did Robin finally gently grasp them, place them back onto his shaft, and ask him if he wanted to learn how to do it. A shy nod and a kiss sealed the deal, and he taught Ricken a different kind of magic.

Nothing could possibly prepare him for a night with Maribelle. She insisted on a lavish meal, dining and entertaining, constantly referring to him as a suitor and their plans as a courtship. When he ended up in her canopy bed, their lips met gently and he began to pull at her clothes, until she slapped his hand away and told him that he was not to put his hands on a lady. The meaning of it confused him, until she took charge, somehow more in control than Sully, but doing so with total poise and grace. The implement she brought out and slipped on confused him; a mounted facsimile of a penis worn by a woman on her groin. He was fairly certain, as he lay down on the bed and she ravaged him, in the mist of shock and uncertainty about how little any of it made sense, that she called him her servant more times than could have been accidental.

A childish and irresistable desire to play with her ears made his first time with Panne unbearably awkward. First came the uncomfortably thorough tongue bath where his hand kept going to her hair and almost scratching the crook where hair met ear. It happened so much that when she finished, rolling over in the grass and asking him to do the same, he threw himself eagerly into it, despite the patches of fur on her arms, legs, and groin. He hadn't the slightest idea how to lick her in those spots, as well as a slight uncertainty about certain other spots she'd delved into with gusto, but he found nervous attempts preferable to potential embarrassment and offence When both lay cleaned and slick, she pressed against a tree, holding her head against his, wrapping her long, gorgeous legs around his waist as he pushed into her, and asked him to scratch her behind the ears.

Gaius's mouth tasted sweet, as though all the sweets he ate somehow made his saliva glands secrete sugar. Candy seemed the last thing on his mind with Robin in his bed, as he sucked and licked and kissed the tactician wherever he could reach. Bite marks and hickeys marred his neck and shoulders, something he wore with pride in the morning because their formation thrilled him too much to want to hide them. The thief's deft fingers and well-exercised mouth left Robin floored, sucking on a pink bear head-shaped lollipop as he wriggled and bucked on the bed, the treatment his cock got in Gaius's mouth making him envy every hard candy he'd ever seen the orange-haired man unwrap. When all was done and he saw the face creep back up to his, licking clean a stray drop and pulling the candy from his mouth to replace with his tongue, Robin knew he'd have another regular partner, as if he could handle that.

Through moaned insistence that she wasn't perfect, Cordelia did little to convince the tactician otherwise. Robin found himself enraptured by the Pegasus knight, by how her gorgeous body seemed to move so fluidly, how her voice shifted and swayed with the rest of her. There was a balance with her that he enjoyed, a perfect mix of both affectionate passion and physical, need-driven lust. Some people he made love to, others he fucked, but with Cordelia he couldn't quite place it. They transitioned so seamlessly between both, every roll and push bringing something new to both of them. He had to keep from complimenting her too heavily as she rode his lap, his arms tucked under hers and their lips practically inseparable, because he didn't want to go too far with them and make her feel anything but wonderful. He'd simply have to show her instead, night after night.

"I am not gentle man," Gregor warned Robin, who sat in his lap, slumped against him from too much ale. He'd tried to match the mercenary drink for drink, failing miserably, and when an arm wrapped around him it was only to finish off the mug he'd carried with him to bed. Robin wasn't sure if he was being warned that Gregor would be rough, or just saying he was not a man of high class and manners, but even in his very inebriated state he knew that grammar clarification was not sexy. He didn't want to know what was meant, because if the bugle in the mercenary's pants that the tactician so gladly fondled was going to be rough with him, he'd have no complaints. Gregor's breath spelled so much of ale as his strong hands grasped his arms and he pressed Robin down into the bed, their lips meeting hungrily as he slammed into him, that the amnesiac became even drunker by the time it was all over.

The plan was to skip Nowi entirely, since Robin wasn't sure if the manakete was even sexually active or if it would be morally okay to do anything with her. That was, until word got back to her about his nightly habits, at which point she confronted him furiously in his bedroom. It ended with her pulling him into an angry kiss, and promising him that her appearance didn't reflect her sexual knowledge in the slightest. Her experience was nigh unparalleled, but in addition her body brought the obvious benefits of divine tightness and softness. He had to remind himself she was over a millennium old when he went down to ear her hairless slit out, and it still felt odd, but by the time he released in her, slumping atop her and panting heavily, he couldn't bring himself to care at all. She kissed him on the cheek, cuddled up against him, and told him she'd want to play again soon.

Libra was the most gentle man he'd ever made love to. They kissed with gentle passion for longer than he thought one could kiss without getting bored. Their disrobing went to slowly that he only truly noticed when Libra asked him very politely to go down on him, and realizing the thing pressing against his thigh was bare, aching flesh. Sexual passivity was not a trait he would say was particularly feminine, especially since his arm still carried a bruise from his latest roll in the hay with Sully, but the quiet priest's softness and tendency to lay there as Robin pressed into him wasn't a great surprise. Robin did almost all the work, thrusting into the blond's ass, stroking his shaft to the same rhythm, and losing the other hand in all that soft, long hair as their lips refused to part.

Tharja came in the middle of the night, Robin waking to find himself bound, gagged, and his shirt cut right down the middle. The dark mage sucked on his exposed chest, leaving marks everywhere that she insisted there to anchor her curse to him. He would not find release that night until she was satisfied, and to drive that fact home she went down on him for a relative eternity. He came close, veering on the edge so much that it was painful, but he did not find release. She used him thoroughly, riding his lap and face alternately, but ways ensuring that she had something to tease his aching cock with as she did so, until the first sun's rays graced the sky and she climbed onto him one more time to feel his warmth explode inside of her. She untied the exhausted, weary tactician, and promised she would visit him again soon. He was powerless to ask she do otherwise.

Bent over his desk with her trousers down, Anna told him to keep his belt on as he fucked her. It confused him, but he wasn't willing to do a single thing that would jeopardize his chance with the lovely merchant. It surprised him, how little foreplay she wanted, but as he slammed into her he found her already dripping wet, as though the act of counting out his coin pouch and placing it all back in was enough for her. She lay rather motionless, slowly pressing harder against the desk, leaving him to do all the work, despite her constant requests for him to go faster. He couldn't understand why she was so eager on having it so fast while being totally unwilling to do anything, until he realized how loud his coin purse's jingling grew when he slammed into her as fast as his hips could go, and suddenly he wasn't sure how much she was getting off to their sex versus his coin.

The hypnotic way of Olivia's hips was so entrancing that Robin almost didn't realize she had danced her way into his lap. It was the only dance she could do without feeling shy, she told him as she pulled his heavy coat off of his shoulders, wishing for him to be as bare as she was. If she was comfortable enough with someone to make love with them, being upset when they watched her move with clothes on seemed silly. She was slow, patient, and sensual with the tactician, telling him to relax as she swayed atop him. Everything she did flowed so perfectly, treating the act of sex as its own dance. She performed atop him, lavishing in every piece of praise, whether it a word or a shudder or the feeling of his hand clutching her thigh desperately. This was where her true passion shone through, not on the battlefield improving morale, but intimately, in the arms of a man she respected and cared deeply about, bringing out mutual pleasure through her talents.

The very next night, they defeated Gangrel. The rough battle took a toll on all of them, but there were no Ylissean casualties when the dust settled and Plegia lay defeated. There was much celebration all around, especially as on that same evening Chrom took a wife. When all was done though, the greatest appreciation was for Robin, who'd led them to victory without the loss of a single life. He tried to be humble about his strategies, and insist it was how much he cared for every last one of them that made him so eager on crafting the perfect tactics.

The Shepherds settled down for a short while, helping to pick up the pieces and rebuild after the war. Even though the fighting was done, Robin continued his nightly escapades with his companions. The original intention of getting to know them proved so wildly successful that he became intensely fond of every last one of them. It was wise he did, as time dragged on and new threats emerged.


	2. S Rank

And here's the other half. It doesn't include the Spotpass characters, mostly because if I do one I need to do all, but Spotpass!Emmeryn squicks me the fuck out so I'll do none of them. Special thanks to Lin for throwing the ideas for a few of the characters at me.

...

The next few years, Robin found himself coordinating rebuilding efforts, which would have felt a waste of his talents were he not patching up war-torn villages. Fire drills and practice battles kept his wits sharp, and he hid his lingering desire to be back on the road and planning attacks by running the Shepherds through training exercises. It was not a particularly lively few years, which he was rather glad about. The birth of princess Lucina was the only highlight, bringing about a feeling of relief as she girl bore the blue hair of her father, ensuring that countless nights spent in the royal bed had not led to problems.

Several other Shepherds married, but Robin remained single, always welcome in the beds of his allies but never settling down with any of them. It didn't seem right to him for a few reasons, chief among them being his lack of romantic interest in them. How he had come into such circumstances was beyond him, but he tried to pay it no mind. When a new threat emerged, the Shepherds were again on the road and Robin found himself back in familiarity. His first memories were of war, and for some reason it brought him a measure of inner-calm to again wield his sword and direct his friends in battle.

"Does she have to watch?" he asked nervously, unable to concentrate on Cherche with her wyvern's eyes on them. She'd insisted on Minerva's presence for some unexplained reason, and it heightened his nerves. Her steely gaze made him tremble in all the wrong ways, making his night with the gorgeous ride a far more awkward experience than expected. Cherche lay on her stomach on the bed as he undressed her, piece by piece. His lips never left her firm, muscular back as he undressed her. He went slow with her just because he was afraid any sudden movements would result in a claw at his throat, but the way she purred as he stroked her thighs told him he was at least on the right track. As he removed the last article of clothing and rolled her over, he found that she turned to face the dragon as he entered her. It confused him further, and he wondered just what was going through her mind as he made love to her and she divided her attention between him and the patient voyeur in the corner, who seemed completely still. Whatever it was, he didn't ask her to explain, simply having his night with her and avoiding the wyvern from then on.

Henry's teeth sank into Robin's neck, drawing a hiss from the tactician. The dark mage's fingers were long and slender, firmly tracing every scar on Robin's naked body. They fascinated him, leading to him muttering under his breath as he found another part of the neck to bite down on as well. He seemed utterly disinterested in sex, even as Robin ground his rear needily into the white-haired mage's groin. The friction did nothing to elicit a reaction out of him, but every sharp, pained breath seemed to make him throb, as though he found pleasure in inducing pain instead of any real sexual stimulation. When Henry did finally enter him, his fingernails dug into one of the scars, and he told Robin that he hoped to leave a few more.

As his fingers slipped inside of Lucina, the princess buried her blushing face into his neck. She cooed out as he touches her in ways nobody had before, and he could tell her explorations hadn't been nearly so thorough either. He wasn't even yet inside of her, and already she was gripping at his arms desperately and shutting her eyes tight. He went slow with her, not just because he felt she was better being given a slow lovemaking, but because he wanted to see how she'd react with proper build if the foremost of foreplay was already drawing such reaction. He wanted to see the radiant glow of her as she lay on the bed, her illustrious hair spread out beneath her, lip trembling as his name rolled off of it so sweetly. She'd seen so much pain and suffering, but for that night, there was nothing but magic between them.

The flowing nature of her clothes, paired with the recent winds, meant that Robin already had a very vivid mental image of Say'ri's long, toned legs. He already knew that he wanted them wrapped around his waist, and when he had the princess up against a tree, he got his wish. He dragged his lips up her solid calves, and as he worked his way up her defences began to crumble. Her usually stern, cold expression began to ebb a little as, around him, she let her guard down. By the time his lips seized her folds, she was enjoying his company without pretence or need for masks. Soon enough he was standing upright, her leg up at his waist and her arms around his neck. He'd paid them service, and gotten her so amazingly wet and engaged that she wrapped them tightly around him and held him buried inside of her.

Owain's endless, comical boasting ruined any semblance of a mood or tone they may have had, and Robin found himself frustrated by the fact instead of a quivering shudder into his ear as he was taken, he got a loud and bragging proclamation about Owain Dark or something; he was too frustrated to care. His shaft lay half-flaccid at his side, unable to enjoy anything about the situation so long as he ran his mouth. It drove him mad, until finally he pushed the myrmidon off and assumed control of the situation himself, for the sake of getting off that night. He got his hands in Owain's messy hair and claimed his mouth, finding a good way to shut him up and salvage the entire thing, just before he had to hear once more about his 'fleshy blade'. Surprisingly, he was very skilled with his mouth, and Robin wondered if someone else had taken this solution with him before because he finished far sooner than he would have, and rather messily too. When he lay on the bed in the afterglow and Owain entered him again, he made damn sure to lock lips with the noble and not release them under any circumstances.

Robin had expected to find Inigo in similar circumstances to the party's other womanizer. Instead of being drunkenly mounted and told he was ladylike enough to not have any regrets, Inigo took after his mother and danced for him. It was a much shyer performance than he'd seen his first time with the woman years earlier, but he coaxed him out of that discomfort over time. He hadn't the technique or practice to move the dance seamlessly into his lap, to continue his performance with the tactician inside of him, but there was a certain grace to it all as he rocked atop the supine Robin, a fluidity that was clearly from all the dancing. It was strange to see the flirt riding his shaft, moaning and enraptured by something so completely different from his usual fare, but the inexplicable contrast made the moment sweeter for Robin, because he was seeing Inigo in a new, vulnerable light.

Despite his appearance and mother, Brady was very gentle. Surprisingly gentle, actually. Even when he grabbed the hem of the tactician's coat as he was taken, it didn't seem an act of passionate desperation so much as simply passion. 'Snugly' was almost the word he wanted to use to describe how Brady cuddled and nuzzled into him at every turn, no matter how little that fit the very thuggish-looking healer. 'Protective' came next, which fit him far more, as he wrapped his arms around Robin and kissed him so gently. It was the sort of carefulness that usually the person doing the penetrating reserved for a partner they were making love to, or to someone inexperienced and in need of affection. Robin was inside of Brady though; it was simply his personality shining through. As the healer shuddered, Robin brought his lips to the corner of his facial scar, kissing it softly and letting him know that he'd found what lay beneath.

Without her armour, it hit him just how impressive Kjelle's body was. She insisted on being in control, and she lacked the same handle on her strength that her mother had, so Robin didn't try to make it a contest, surrendering immediately and letting her take control. It seemed to be what she wanted, to be a woman in charge, to have him instead of the other way around. He gladly relented to that, allowing her to get her fingers tight into his hair and push his face down between her legs. Her domination was a strange one; she was too inexperienced to properly control him, and so she was simply rough and demanding with him. It would have been underwhelming were it not for her immense strength, ensuring that he was firmly in her grasp and being dragged to whichever part of her body she wanted him to pay tribute to. They weren't playing his domination; she really did have total physical control over him.

Cynthia was an endless well of energy, grinding against him with giddiness as her hand fumbled in his lap, clumsily stroking his shaft. She straddled Robin's leg, rubbing back and forth against the skin and wiggling her slit against him, finding far too much enjoyment in the act. When he grasped her breast and took the nipple between her lips, she let out a shrill squeal that almost made him recoil in shock, but he started to suck and persevered. He was glad she was so full of energy, because it meant that once he got inside of her she was going to ride his lap with all of that enthusiasm straight to climax, but he wished she'd keep it down. There was very little danger in getting caught, and nobody would have really cared, but her noise took a toll on his hearing that he wasn't likely to soon recover from.

Severa goaded and mocked him the whole time. She didn't get physical like he expected, but in her submission spent plenty of time snapping at him and insisting he was going too soft. He had no idea what 'hard' meant for her, but he assumed she'd be belligerent about it once he got there. It stopped being a game for them the moment she bit his neck and scratched down his back, barking an order for him to stop disappointing her. That finally pissed him off, and he bit her right back, drawing a very pleased moan and making her nails twist against his flesh. Feeling he was onto something, he pushed her out of his lap, getting her on all fours in front of him and giving her ass a smack so hard the noise made him recoil and his hand stung. Grabbing her twintails, he tugged on them hard as he slammed his cock into her, and the lusty moan tearing out of her throat told him that he'd found 'hard'.

It was a challenge to get Gerome to open up. Not to agree to sex; he seemed very receptive of that, to whatever lengths he could really be receptive to anything. But he had problems being intimate, touching or moving or showing any real signs that the hand wrapped around his shaft or the lips at his neck were really doing anything for him. He stroked Robin's in return just fine, but seemed so rigid and stiff-in the wrong places-and had trouble unwinding. Robin tried to be as passionate as he could with Gerome, and by the end of the night he looked back and found that the wyvern rider had certainly been a good lay, but that there wasn't anything emotional in their night together. He may as well have been wearing his mask for how closed-off he was, but Robin could hardly complain. At least he didn't insist that Minverykins had to watch.

Yarne wriggled and squirmed under him, whimpering as Robin pushed deeper into his rear. "Be gentle with me," he squeaked, clawing at the bed beneath him as a hand wrapped tightly around his shaft and began to tug. As a prank, Severa had told him how rough he'd been with her to scare him, and it worked, leaving him oddly reluctant and always worried that at any moment Robin would tug on his ears and start ravaging him. Robin went gently, not being the lover that Severa had scared the taguel into thinking he was, but it only did so much to assuage his nervousness. It was only when he started to scratch behind Yarne's ears that he calmed the boy down enough to be able to go at him properly.

It seemed that Miriel had left all of her notes on her and Robin's experiments behind, and Laurent had all of them. It was intimidating, for the mage to know so much about him with Robin knowing nothing in return, and that made him nervous. Laurent didn't want to complete or continue the notes, just to see things for himself. All of his mother's notes detailed the mechanics, which he understood perfectly, but he wanted to know the intangibles. Their lips met as their shafts rubbed together, eventually seized in his hand and stroked in unison. They ran through so many things that night, Robin noting that they were his and Miriel's most-researched positions, and when it was all over, the mage lay in his arms and had to admit that he'd been showed otherwise. He intended to continue the notes after all.

Noire apologized for the fiftieth as Robin finished tying her hands to the bed with the strongest rope they could take from the camp without looking suspicious. It was a safety measure, in case her inner demon slipped out during sex, and entirely her suggestion, though Robin embraced it because it would go a long way in saving his life. Climbing atop her, they started, and it all went fairly normally from there, the archer moaning and wriggling beneath him on the bed. At least, until she did snap, and the kisses she'd been giving his neck turned into a fierce bite that made Robin shout out and climax inside of her without warning. She had a hold on him, and he could feel the warm trickle down his neck as her legs seized his hips and she shouted to him that he had better not pull out of her until she said she was satisfied.

Nah tugged at his coat and held him tight against her. Her cheeks were flush and eyes shut tight as he moved inside of her, his lips against hers as they parted. She let go with him, showed him her vulnerability and her emotions. She was always so closed off, but in his arms it was hard to be stoic or keep her maturity up. For that night, she didn't have to be 'the mature one' or respond to everything with dry wit. She could instead nuzzle into his neck and enjoy something sane and normal for once. He was soft and warm, and his touch made her toes curl and her cheeks burn. She cooed his name softly and refused to let him go, because so long as he held her she felt safe.

It surprised him that Tiki would even be sexual, but the Voice of Naga, countless thousands of years old, proved herself to be such just fine as she lay atop him. In some ways, sex was the best way to forge a bond for her as well, because the lingering, wonderful memories of a night snared in passion stayed with her always. When her loved ones had long turned to dust she could still reminisce about when they were closest and most intimate. She shivered and moaned in his embrace, smiling all the while as she explained it to him, telling him subtly that she considered him among his 'loved ones'. A kiss sealed the matter and he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her extra tight and promising to leave her a night of memories she could enjoy for eternity.

Robin lay sandwiched between East and West. The Khans took him together, revelling in the chance to share the tactician. They didn't mind that he wasn't as athletic as they were, because it made it all so much more fun. Basilio took him from behind, his hold hard on Robin's sides as he pushed into him. He pulled him up a little with each pull out, then slammed back down each time. Flavia lay beneath, benefiting from her colleague's dragging of the tactician's body as each hard push in drove a cock into her. It was rare for someone to lie between the two competitive lovers, but they found him a welcome addition to their bed that night. They set out to using him every which way, and Robin could tell that him being in the middle was a fairly lopsided approach to threesomes, but there was nothing about it that he could complain about. Both of them found plenty of different uses for him, and the night only came to an end because they had run through every possible combination and the mens' seed had run dry.

When he went to face Grima, it was his ties to his friends that saved him. The bonds he'd forged with each of them were strong enough to not only reign him in against Grima's power, but anchor him firmly to reality, such that when the dust settled after his sacrifice, he still lay living in the world. Whether it was the extent to which he pushed every relationship, or if it was an unnecessary step that strengthened solid steel, the lengths he went to ensured a place in the hearts of his soldiers. By most reliable accounts he loved nobody other than his wife Lucina, but those who fought under his command knew otherwise.


End file.
